


standing here with you tonight

by thegrayness



Category: Actor RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, Schitt's Creek RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Emmy Nominations, Hand Jobs, It Happened In Italy, M/M, Noah Reid and His Calming Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: His hopes weren’t up. He’d made absolutely sure of that. But he’d also never actually thought about what might happen if… if the showdidget nominated.





	standing here with you tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This is RPF and I made this whole thing up.
> 
> Thank you to leupagus for talking me off several ledges, listening to me whine about this, and reading this several times. And also guests at the Rosebudd Motel for telling me 500 times that they like my fics every time I pretended I wasn't gonna post this.

Dan’s kicking himself for insisting that his friends go to the store while he waited for the announcement. If he hadn’t been so adamant that he was _fine_ , someone might have stayed with him, and he wouldn’t be hiding from himself with his back pressed against his closed bedroom door. 

His hopes weren’t up. He’d made absolutely sure of that. But he’d also never actually thought about what might happen if… if the show _did_ get nominated. He’s shaking, that’s for sure, and his stupid, wonderful friends are off stocking up on wine probably, and his fucking phone hasn’t connected to the shitty wi-fi since he got the news. 

_They did it._

He’s not sure how long he stays like that, muscles tightened, frozen under the weight of something with the potential to change… everything, but he finally unclenches when he hears a cacophony of noise coming from the front hallway. His friends have arrived with the wine, thank god, and he heaves in a shaky breath, only to let it out in a dry sob. That turns into a wet one as his tears finally spill over to splash his cheekbones. 

His hands fly up to his mouth, trying to stifle any noise. He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s hiding in his room in a Tuscan villa crying about being nominated for a fucking Emmy award. He falls back against the door again, letting his phone tumble out of his hand and hit the thick area rug with a muffled clatter. 

The shouting and laughing get louder and he thinks they may all be coming to his room with cheers and congratulations and celebratory drinks, but the noise dies down, seems to move past, and he eventually hears and feels a soft knock at his back. He knows who it is—knows it couldn’t be anyone else.

“I know you’re in there. Let me in, okay?” It’s Noah’s soft voice, the one he knows makes Dan weak. He doesn’t like to take advantage of it, he’d said. He had used it the first night they had sex—when Dan wanted it so badly but was so sure they were about to ruin everything; their renewed friendship, their work on the show—and Noah had swooped in with his soft voice and his reassuring words and kissed him until they couldn’t breathe.

Dan doesn’t respond, feels Noah try to shove the door open against his weight and stumbles a few steps forward. He hears the door creak open, then click shut a second before Noah’s hand is on his shoulder. He turns around and Noah pulls him close, one hand around his waist and the other cradling the back of his neck where it’s bent, face pressed hard into the crook of Noah’s neck. 

He’s getting tears all over the collar of Noah’s t-shirt but he can’t take a breath deep enough to even start to calm down. Noah is softly stroking the back of his head, which is nice, and he’s making quiet noises that Dan thinks might be lyrics to a Beatles song, which is nice, too. 

Noah must be swaying them because after a few minutes Dan feels his breath sync up with their movements. Breathe in and sway to the right. Breathe out and sway to the left.

“Hey,” Noah whispers. He urges Dan to lift his head, and Dan drags his face along Noah’s stubble, likes the scrape on his clean-shaven cheek. “You fucking did it, Dan.”

Dan looks at Noah’s bright, wet eyes and nearly loses it again, but Noah’s pulling him in, pressing dry lips to his. Noah sucks in a breath through his nose and lets it out around a soft laugh. “God, I can’t believe it. I mean I can, of course, I can but—being here—it’s perfect.”

Dan shakes his head, maybe to disagree, but Noah slides his hand along Dan’s cheek, pushing his thumb against Dan’s lips. “Shh,” he soothes. “Just let me.” Noah has a way of calming him down, even on set, even before they started this—whatever they’re doing. He could tell when Dan was spiraling and could bring him back with an intense look or a grounding touch. 

Dan lets his eyes flutter closed as Noah replaces his thumb with his mouth, kissing him deep and dirty, more tongue than lips. Dan stumbles a step forward as Noah pulls him along, hands tight on Dan’s hips until they reach the door and Noah turns them so he’s pressing Dan back against the hard surface.

Noah slips his fingers beneath the hem of Dan’s white t-shirt and Dan shivers as Noah’s fingernails scratch deliciously against the small of his back. He takes a shallow breath as Noah lets up, lets them both breathe for a second before he’s bringing his mouth to Dan’s cheekbone, the sharp line of his jaw, nipping the thin skin of his throat, licking up to the sensitive spot behind his ear. 

Dan is shaking again, but he finds he doesn’t mind it so much, with Noah solid and steady in front of him, holding him up, _making_ him shake. His hands find their way into Noah’s back pockets, and he’s happy to have something to do with them that doesn’t require any concentration. He leans his head back against the door and feels Noah make a pleased noise against his neck as he takes advantage of the exposed skin. 

Noah’s mouth is back at his ear. “Is this okay?” He asks, moving a hand to rest against the drawstring of Dan’s shorts.

“Mmmm,” Dan murmurs quietly. 

Noah halts his progress on Dan’s shorts. “Dan?” He asks again, kissing his way back up to Dan’s mouth. “Daniel.”

Dan trembles against him and blinks his eyes open to find Noah staring back. “Yeah, please, Noah.” 

Noah smiles at him, and Dan feels dizzy, so he leans in to kiss Noah again, shoves his tongue in Noah’s mouth. Noah groans in surprise, smiling against Dan’s lips until he eventually lets out a laugh. Dan makes a noise of disapproval at the interruption and pulls away, but Noah’s hand is there at the back of his neck to prevent him from moving more than an inch. “God, you’re amazing.”

Before Dan can respond, Noah is untying the string on his shorts and tugging them down enough to get a hand around Dan’s half-hard length. Dan gives a quiet sigh-whimper and thunks his head back again, feeling the sting on his scalp for a few seconds before Noah’s other hand is cradling his skull. 

“Easy,” Noah says, voice almost a whisper before he’s kissing Dan again, giving his dick a stroke from root to tip and then again. Dan’s leaking, and Noah thumbs over the head of his cock to spread the wetness. Noah's grip is too dry, but the rough friction sends heat snaking up Dan’s spine as he gasps into Noah’s mouth. He feels his knees buckle but Noah is there to press him back against the door. Noah is always there.

Noah fumbles around the nightstand next to them, grabbing one of the bottles of lube and flicking it open. “This is perfect,” he says and Dan whimpers. “You’re perfect.” 

Noah gets a slick hand around Dan’s dick, coating the length and starting up a torturously slow rhythm. Noah’s foreplay almost always gets Dan like eighty percent of the way there—he’s so easy for messy kisses and soft, filthy words—and he lets out a curse when Noah’s lips start to tease the spot behind his ear again. He’d found it 3 months ago, soon after they started kissing without cameras rolling, and now he takes every single opportunity to use it to his advantage. 

Noah’s hand is tight and perfect on Dan’s cock and his hips twitch forward on every upstroke. His hands pull at the hem of Noah’s t-shirt and he can’t help the needy noises that spill from his lips. He shoves his head against Noah’s shoulder again, to quiet himself, but it’s hopeless. Noah tugs the back of his shorts down, his fingers sliding along Dan’s ass to nudge against his hole.

Dan sinks his teeth into Noah’s shoulder, hard enough to bruise. “Yeah,” Noah says, lips pressed to his ear, as Dan comes with a groan between them. “Yeah,” Noah says again, and tries to catch the mess but Dan feels wetness smear across his abdomen anyway. 

Noah kisses Dan gently as he comes down, and he must forget he’s got Dan’s come on his hand because he wraps his arms around his waist, pressing them closer together, palms flat against Dan’s back. He makes an apologetic noise into Dan’s mouth and pulls away. “Sorry about your shirt.” He grimaces slightly, but he sounds exactly the opposite of sorry.

Dan smiles at him, breath starting to slow, chest feeling light. Leave it to Noah to help him have some kind of cathartic experience in the middle of an Italian vacation because he’s hiding from his own success. He blinks at Noah, takes in his warm brown eyes, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, his flushed cheeks, and Dan realizes. Maybe it’s the orgasm talking, but this is the happiest he thinks he’s ever been and the thought startles a laugh out of him because 20 minutes ago he was sure he was about to have a nervous breakdown. He leans in to kiss Noah’s nose. “It’s your shirt actually.” 

Noah smirks and Dan moves his hand to the front of Noah's truly awful jean shorts. “What about you?” He asks.

Noah drags his nose against Dan’s. “I can wait ‘til tonight. I want to celebrate.” He jerks his head in the direction of the window behind him. Now that his blood isn’t rushing in his ears, Dan can hear their friends out by the pool, shouting and laughing. 

“How did you manage to distract them for this little interlude?” He wraps his arms around Noah’s neck and rests their foreheads together. 

“Told them I wanted to congratulate you first, and I think at least half of them believed it. I think they were kind of distracted by the wine anyway. Salva went crazy once we got the news, bought out the store probably.”

Noah holds his gaze as he uses Dan’s—his—shirt to finish wiping off his hand and Dan rolls his eyes. “I hate you,” he lies. 


End file.
